


Assumptions

by Celticmuse5



Category: CSI
Genre: Episode Related, King Baby, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-21
Updated: 2011-11-21
Packaged: 2017-10-26 09:49:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/281600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celticmuse5/pseuds/Celticmuse5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gil makes assumptions about the assumptions that Nick is making about their case.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Assumptions

Leaving Forever Baby, the adult baby fetish store, Gil and Nick climbed back into Gil’s Tahoe. As Gil latched his seatbelt and started the engine, Nick leaned his head back against the headrest, muttering, “God, that was painful.”

Gil grinned, shaking his head. “Come on, Nicky, it wasn’t that bad, was it? We found out some things that may have relevance to the case, and you and Sara might be able to find out even more when you get a closer look at Bruce’s toy chest.”

Nick gave Gil a blank stare, his jaw dropping slightly. “Gris, that, that woman thought you were a, a, um, infantilist! Doesn’t that bother you at all?”

Gil pulled out of the parking lot and headed back toward the office, thinking about Nick’s question. “Well, to be honest, not really. I was rather flattered by her assumptions, actually.” He changed the subject. “But if you don’t mind my saying so, you really have to stop letting your own values and beliefs color your objectivity in cases like this one. You won’t be able to help the dead the best you can if you insult the living just when you need their cooperation the most. You may not like or respect someone’s life choices, but you have to leave all that behind you when you’re on the job.”

Nick sat quietly for a few minutes, but Gil couldn’t tell whether he was angry, or being thoughtful, or something else altogether. As Gil drove, his thoughts drifted back to their current case. He had just finished sketching the outlines of a general progress report for Ecklie when Nick next spoke.

“Man, it just all seems so phony, you know?”

Gil cocked his head slightly as he braked for a red light, glancing at Nick with a raised eyebrow in a silent request for the other man to continue his line of thought.

“I mean, if you need something to get you off, even something kinda unusual, fine. But if the way you decide to go about getting it for yourself is always by paying someone to give it to you, or worse, _blackmailing_ them into it, well, that’s just wrong to me. A person shouldn’t hurt another person just to get what he needs, and getting what you need shouldn’t ever get treated like just a business transaction. That’s what really bothers me about this case. And, um, about Lady Heather’s Dominion, too.” Nick shook his head decisively. “Remember the plushies and furries? They were weird, and a couple of them were even criminal, but at least they were accepting of each other and were trying to help one another out as best they could, not just one person using the others.”

Gil narrowed his eyes and smiled ruefully, thinking over Nick’s words. He didn’t know how Nick always did this to him, but once again Gil Grissom would walk away from a conversation with Nick Stokes feeling as if he’d learned just as much about himself as he had about Nick.

 

\------------

 

Midway through his next shift after the end of the infantilism case, Gil stood in his office studying the formulae he had recorded on his portable white board, trying to gauge as accurately as possible, based on the living insects and empty shells found at the scene, the time of death of the New Mexico victim on whose case he was currently consulting. He looked away briefly as someone entered his office and stood beside the nearest bookshelf.

“Hey Nicky, what do you need?” Gil turned back to the board, erasing one figure and changing another to recheck his reasoning.

“You said, ’assumptions’, plural.”

Gil halted his actions at the board and looked over at Nick, blank-faced. “Excuse me?”

“At the big baby store the other day. I thought about it some more, and you said you felt flattered by the 'assumptions' that the woman at the store made, not that you felt flattered that she thought you shared their fetish. What did you mean by that?”

“Oh.” Gil wasn’t often caught flat-footed, but he was seldom asked such a personal question at work either. Completely at a loss as to how to answer Nick, and yet compelled to respond by the determination evident on the other man’s face, he tried for a broad answer that wouldn’t embarrass either of them too much. “I probably misspoke. I just meant that, generally speaking, I felt flattered by the clerk’s manner.”

Nick stared at him until Gil could feel his cheeks begin to flush. He looked away, but couldn’t bring himself to lie, or even just to change the subject.

Finally, he muttered, “I meant that I was flattered that she though you were um, _with_ me.”

Nick’s raised eyebrows seemed to force Gil to continue, despite his aching discomfort.

“Come on, Nicky. She thought I was your daddy, maybe even that we were a couple. That’s pretty flattering for someone like me, okay? I’m sorry if I’ve insulted you, though.” He turned to go – suspicious New Mexico death abandoned without a second thought – to leave the room or the building, or maybe Vegas itself, he wasn’t quite sure.

“Gris, please, stop.”

Gil halted, sighing. Turning back toward Nick, he prepared to offer his apologies, to give assurances that he would _never_ be anything less than a complete professional in his dealings with Nick. But Nick interrupted the flow of words.

“Just tell me one thing, alright? Do I or do I not report to you anymore? Will you file my next evaluation, or will it be Catherine?”

Gil blinked, and said, “The way things stand now, you are reporting to Catherine. She might consult with me on the next one if she chooses, but she’ll be the one signing off on your evaluations from now on. Although,” Gil felt compelled to point out, “all CSI work assignments are at the discretion of Conrad Ecklie now. He split up the team, and he could just as arbitrarily decide to change things around again.”

Nick nodded, thinking. “But, if two people who work in the same office but don’t currently work together develop a relationship, nobody can force them to end the relationship, right? Even if they’re assigned to work together at some future point.”

Nodding agreement, Gil took a seat in one of the two chairs in front of his desk, feeling as if he might need the support if Nick threw any more surprises at him.

Nick sat in the other chair, looking steadily at him. Seeming to come to a decision, he said, “I know this is really not the right time or place to talk about anything personal, but I figured that if I didn’t just come right out and _say_ it the next time I saw you, I would lose my nerve.”

Gil nodded his understanding, and Nick continued, regaining some of his earlier forcefulness.

“I want you to come to my place for breakfast when your shift is over. Will you?”

Gil hesitated, wanting to say yes, but worried about all the possibilities, from the negative to the positive.

“Say yes, Gris. We both need to do this.”

Wondering what Nick’s version of “this” was, but knowing that asking would have to wait, Gil finally nodded firmly, saying, “I’m not sure what time I’ll be done, but I’ll call you just before I leave if that’s alright. Should I bring anything?”

Grinning, Nick jumped out of the chair. Clasping Gil’s shoulder on his way to the door, he said, “Well, I’d never say no to some cinnamon buns from that bakery on Fordham, if you want to pick some up. Otherwise, we’re all set.” Turning at the doorway, he said, “I’m glad you said yes, Gil.”

“Me too.”

Nick smiled and was gone.

Gil sat, heart pounding, panting lightly as if he’d just run a four-minute mile. His brain began to throw all manner of “what ifs” and “maybes” at him, but gradually he calmed down. To worry about a decision already made was pointless. It would be far more productive to concentrate on finishing up his work on the New Mexico case so that he stood a good chance of leaving on time at the end of his shift.

After all, life was for the living, and he and Nick were both very much alive.

 

End


End file.
